MY HANDS My hands were filled with many things I That I did precious hold, As any treasure of a king's Silver, or gems, or gold. The Master came and touched my hands, (The scars were in His own), And at His feet my treasures sweet Fell shattered, one by one. " I must have empty hands," said He, "Therewith to work M y works through thee." M y hands were stained with marks of j toil, Defiled with dust of earth; And I my work did oftentimes Soil and render little worth. The Master came and touched m y ! hands, (And crimson were His own), But when, amazed, on mine I gazed, j Lo! every stain was gone. " I must have cleansed hands," said He, "Wherewith to work M y works through thee." My hands were growing feverish And cumbered with much care! Trembling with haste and eagerness, Nor folded oft in prayer. The Master came and touched my hands, (With healing in His own). And calm and still to do His will They grew, the fever gone. " I must have quiet hands," said He, "Wherewith to work M y works for Me. My hands were strong in fancied strength. But not in power divine, And bold to take up tasks at length, That were not His but mine. But mine since then have powerless been, Save His are laid thereon. "And it is only thus," said He, "That I can work My works through thee."
I BRING MY SINS TO THEE I bring my sins to Thee, the sins that burden me; And Thou dost wash them all away, 0 Saviour, and in pure array Thy soiled, erring child Doth dress in spotless robes of right eousness. 1 bring my sins to Thee, and I am cleansed. My fears I bring to Thee, the fears that torture me; "Take them away, dear Lord," I plead, "Oh, give me strength, supply my need;" And, loving, Thou dost understand, Dost come and take me by the hand. I bring my fears to Thee, and I am strong. Myself I bring to Thee, the self that thirsts for Thee; All, and naught less, dost Thou re quire. I"Grant me, O Lord, my deep desire, Thy presence in my heart this day, ¡To realize, now, and always!" II bring myself to Thee; Thou glvest Thyself to me. JUST WHERE YOU STAND Just where you stand in the conflict there Is your place. Just where you think you are useless, hide not your face. God placed you there for a purpose what e'er it be. Think He had chosen you for it? Work loyally. Gird on your armour, be faithful at toil or rest, Whiche'er it be, never doubting, God's ways are best. Out in the fight or on leasure, stand firm and true, This is the work which your Master gives you to do.
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